When Silence Screams
by theemeralddragon26
Summary: Scarlett is a dhampir. Her father created her to be a weapon, however, things did not go according to plan. Now Scarlett is hidden away from the world, but more importantly, she is hidden from her mate. Griffin Wesley Baird IV is prince to the largest coven in the western hemisphere, but he will not live long enough to reign unless he finds his mate. Better summary inside.
1. Entry 1: Questionable Innocence

**HELLO GUYS! Thanks for choosing to read my story. I'll keep this first chapter short and sweet so you can get a idea of what this story is about. Her's the full summary that I couldn't fit into the 384 words. **

**_IMPORTANT:_ The summary plays a key role in your understanding of my story so make sure you sacrifice the three seconds of your time it takes to read it!**

**Summary:**

Scarlett's father risked his life to create a half-human, half-vampire spawn that he could utilize as a bodyguard. His result was a fiery daughter that showed few signs of her vampire nature until she turned eighteen. Griffin Wesley Baird IV is the prince of the largest coven in the western hemisphere, but he needs his mate to survive long enough to become king. The only problem is that Scarlett's father has hidden her away from the vampire world in order to protect himself from the vampires who look to kill him for his treacherous crimes. When Silence Screams is a story about reading in between the lines, forbidden romance, and secrets that have potential to wipe out the vampire race for good.

**NOTE:**** Not all vampires have mates; due to the pureness of its blood, only nobles and the royal family are known to possess this trait . Once a pure-blooded vampire is mated with a vampire that is not of the pureblood, the mating trait is lost.**

**Chapter One: **Questionable Innocence

**ll Griffin Wesley Baird IV (West) llll**

In all my years of unlife, I have never seen anything as frightening as the vampire chained up in front of me. I know him by the familiar structure of his face; he is the vampire I grew up with and played with as a youngling. We were best friends, almost brothers.

Two months ago, he was warned that he needed to find his mate or else. William had taken the warning lightly, and we wasted precious time joking about what his mate would turn out like. He had only a week left to find his mate when he actually started looking. Two days ago, I requested permission to send a scouting party after William as a joke. My intention was for William and his mate to come back the the castle with the scouting party so we could meet the lucky girl. It had been a month since the time William was supposed to find his mate by, and most of the vampires around the council believed him to be 'spending some quality time with her'. I grew impatient of his absence and sent the search party out to remind him of all of us waiting for him at the castle.

When I received word that my scouts had located him, I was overjoyed. However, they also reported that everything was not well with my friend. As I now look down at his familiar face, I know exactly what they had meant. My friend has gone rogue. It occurs to vampires who don't find their mates in time. They go crazy with blood-lust and usually start a killing spree in a nearby town. When a vampire goes rogue, every semblance of sanity is lost. All that is left is the animal instinct to defend itself and to feed. However, the intelligence of the creature is what makes a rogue dangerous. William is still William, however, he has been driven crazy to the point were he is no more than an animal with the brain of a human.

All those times when William and I joked about the idea of a girl holding us down suddenly seemed so foolish and stupid. We were idiots. Funny how you only learn when you get burned.

"William," I say in my authoritative voice that I usually save for political functions, royal demands, and dangerous situations. As prince of one of the largest vampire covens in the supernatural world, I find myself using this voice very often. However, I have never spoken like this to William. "Tell us what happened to you during the last month. Where is your mate?."

My father had entrusted me with the duty of watching over all threats to the kingdoms safety, which included rogue vampires, humans who believe we exist, werewolves, and aggressive vampire covens. Oh, I almost forgot; I am also indirectly in charge of preventing the births of any dhampirs. I came into this position after watching my mother murdered by one of the few dhampirs alive. I was only one-hundred and five when it occurred and have never forgotten her death. After avenging my mother's death over a hundred years later and killing the dhampir as well as all of his brothers and sisters, I became the unofficial dhampir killer. The title, however, has little importance due to the fact that those were the last known dhampirs alive. Recently, we have heard word of the same man who created the dhampirs I killed to have created another, more powerful dhampir, however, all evidence points to the contrary. You see, dhampirs have a special scent that makes them stick out from normal vampires. If a dhampir is alive, we would know, and eventually we would be able to kill it.

The point is, I am supposed to take care of threats to our safety, and rogues are one of the most dangerous hazards to vampire covens. They risk exposure when they go out and kill humans. Our coven strongly believes in controlled feeding, which means that vampires belonging to the coven can not overfeed. The amount of blood in a single human being can provide sustenance for three vampires, which means that it is against our laws for a single vampire to kill a human. Then of course there are donors to feed us. When a vampire kills even a single human in our community, they are placed on trial for endangering our kind. Rogues never receive the opportunity of a fair trial; most are just killed on sight. However, I can not lose William like this.

"I command you to answer me," I demand at Williams silence.

"Command me? You can't use that royal voice on me, West. I see straight through your act; you can't command your best friend to do things." William lets out hysterical laugh, however the voice sounds nothing like what William's used to sound like. The sound is crazed and uncontrolled, matching his appearance. His hair falls across his head in a greasy mess, and his eyes are a blood red color as they fly around the room, trying to take in everything around him. If I could imagine him as a human right now, he would probably be a antsy drug addict that couldn't keep still.

Apparently, my information about rogues is true. The rogue truly does have William's attitude and knowledge base. That is going to make this a hell of a lot more difficult. So much for taking the easy way out; I can tell that this is going to take a lot of effort on my part.

"What I see in front of me right now is not my friend. What I see in front of me is a dirty rogue who allowed evil to corrupt and control him. Whatever you are, you are far from the William I befriended." I reply in a hard voice, trying to keep my anger form showing. How could I have lost William to such a simple matter? All he had needed to do was find his mate, whom my father had predicted to be a mere twenty-six miles from the royal grounds. Why hadn't he gotten to her in time?

The rogue laughs again. "Your highness," it sneers at me. A single ray of sunlight shines through a small hole in the stone that makes up the ceiling of the high part of the dungeon glinted off off his extended fangs, granting him the appearance of the devil himself. "I beg to differ. While

I may not be the annoying William you knew, I am his demon, and I now control him. But don't worry too much, because in a couple of months you will be in the cell next to mine." He swings his head to the side, motioning toward the empty cell next to him while still smirking maliciously. "By the way, how is that mate of yours? Found her yet, have you?"

I hiss at the rogue. So what if I have yet to find my mate; I still have plenty of time.

"Didn't think so," the rogue smirked. I have to force myself to turn away from the vampire before I lose my temper. Once I have removed myself from his cell, one of the king's guard approaches me.

"Your highness. As prince, I am assuming you know the protocol for rogues," the vampire says, and I realize he is respectfully trying to remind me of my duty.

I know he is merely attempting to do his job, but I hate to be pressured into making decisions. My teeth grind together as I try to juggle my responsibilities as prince and my responsibilities as a friend. A prince would give orders for the rogue's execution. However, as a friend, I can not force myself to give the command that kills William.

"Hold off on any action," I say. "I will consult the king and return with an order."

The guard nod in affirmation and I walk past him, up the stairs and out of the dungeon. Never before in my life does finding my mate seem more important. What the rogue had said was right; in a few months, I would be in the cell next to him. I already know that I am doomed to that fate.

The process behind mating is quite simple. When the younger mate turns three hundred if a vampire or eighteen when a mortal, the mating process begins. The mates should be able to sense their opposite half even before their mating process officially starts, it is only until the younger mate is of age that the elder mate can actually locate them. I am not sure how it exactly works, but supposedly when the younger vampire is of age, the elder vampire can suddenly smell its mate's scent all around him or her until he or she can pinpoint the exact location of his or her mate. Depending on the strength of the connection between the two mates, the smell could drive the elder vampire to insanity until he or she found his or her mate; William's connection to his mate was very weak, so he hadn't been particularly motivated to find her. When I asked him what it was like, he said that he just woke up one morning and her scent was everywhere, and he told me that it was the best thing he had ever smelled in his unlife.

At first, William had been ready to go and track her down, but I had stopped him, telling him that he had a whole two months to find her and be with her forever whereas I only had two months to spend with my unmated best friend. I was the reason he was now a rogue; I had convinced him that his mate was not as important as a friend. Somehow, William had fought off the pull of him mate's scent.

Soon I would feel what it is like to be surrounded by my mate's scent. I can feel something building inside of me, and I can only assume my mate's birthday is approaching. When I had told my father this, he had frowned at me. As king, he possesses the power of the the sight; he can see where anyone is located in the world through their thoughts. Looking into my head, he was able to feel what I was feeling. After a few minutes of silence, he looked up at me with a weary face and told me that something was interfering with my connection to my mate. As a royal, the connection between my mate and I should be stronger than a normal vampire's. I should be able to at least sense our constant connection and if I was lucky, her emotions, but instead, all I feel is an emptiness where her presence should be. My father worries that someone is hiding her from me, and when her birthday comes about, and I am supposed to start looking for her, my father worries that I will not be able to find her at all.

**ll Excerpts from Scarlett's Father's Journal llll**

_-November 6, 1603_

On this day, the queen is expected to produce a heir. Circulating around the vampire community is the tale of a witch prophesying the child to be a male with the ability to single-handedly bring down an entire vampire coven. What has become one of my greatest fears is the thought that this child might possess the strength to bring me down. I must seek out a defense against this child. Already, I have investigated the usefulness of creating a child with a human. I believe those are called dhampirs.

_-July 27, 1708_

James is a subject for the madhouse. I haven't the slightest idea how I created a dhampir so lacking of a brain. When I told him to kill her royal majesty, the queen, I did not instruct him to do so in front of the prince. Now the prince will be on the search for revenge, I can only hope that the prince turns out to be weaker than the prophecy states.

_-May 10, 1839_

James is dead, along with his six brothers and sisters. I am currently hidden from the world in a place of isolation. Each day I survive is another chance for the prince to kill me. I must locate another human to mate with quickly.

-_August 18, 1848_

I have not been able to find a human capable of sustaining her life as well as the child's life for more that two months of pregnancy. The last few years have granted me time to formulate a plan. If I cross paths with a human capable of carrying a vampire child, what help would a new dhampir do? The prince killed my past dampirs in less than a decade. My next dhampir can not be any normal dhampir. I have decided to start injecting my humans with vampire blood throughout the pregnancy in an attempt to create a more powerful dhampir. So far my experimentations have only slightly progressed from where they were, but I am still nowhere near producing a single supernatural child. I now focus my energy on collecting vials of the blood from powerful vampire around the world. I do not care if I have to wait twice as long as my lifetime to create this child, because I know that it will be the strongest one yet.

_-September 1, 1995_

The last century of my life has been devoted to finding the perfect woman to carry my child. I cared not for attraction; all I needed was for her to be human so that she may give birth to a dhampir child without the child dying prematurely. In order for this to be accomplished, the human female must possess certain characteristics. The list of these characteristics, of which I have acquired over decades of experimentation, can be found in my notes on this subject. I am writing now to prove that I have, in fact, found the woman to carry my supernatural child. I know not the human's name of her preferences; I care not for her in the least. If anything, the woman is more annoying than she is beautiful; which is quite a feat, I must say.

I will include a description of her features because experience proves that a dhampir possesses a large majority of the human mother's characteristics while only displaying the pale skin, angular features, and fangs that make up the child's vampire half.

The woman is short and thin with long, flowing, light-brown hair. It is ironic how her brown hair contains a red tint, making the overall appearance of her hair to be a dark-red color, seeming to resemble dried blood. Her eyes are a very light green, and their contrast against her black pupils make them even more distinct. The only characteristics of the woman that I know the child will not posses are her round, soft features and her dark, tanned skin.

_-October 14, 1995_

Today was the day of the child's birth. I was the only one to help the human through the process. Out of fear of losing the dhampir child, I refused to give the human sedatives or pain killers before or during the process. It was a miracle that the human survived as long as she did; however, in the end, she died, her fragile human body unable to supply the resources demanded to sustain the supernatural child's life. When this occurred, I was forced to cut open her weak body and remove the child myself.

It is a girl.

_-December 18, 1995_

The child appears to be functioning like a human rather than growing at the rate of a vampire. Her tiny, frail body does not meet my expectation of the warrior dhampir I have worked so hard for. My only guess is that the child possesses more human characteristics than expected. In a few months, I can only hope that the vampire genes will overpower the human, and she will begin to grow into her vampire heritage.

_-February 3, 1997_

It has been two years since the birth of my dhampir child, and I have yet to notice any supernatural qualities in her. I fear that despite my efforts to create her as a supernatural creature, the child will grow into a mundane human. All of my calculations depict her to be one of the strongest dhampir's in our history, due to my carefully selected mate and the well-planned collection of vampire genes that I had injected into the child's female mother throughout her pregnancy.

The only explanation I have considered for the child's lack of vampire qualities relates back to an old legend I have heard about a vampire who was bitten, but after his transformation, possessed no powers. Then, on his three hundredth birthday, the male awoke as one of the most powerful vampires know throughout our history. The vampire's mate was the daughter of the leader of one the largest covens. Due to the fact that the princess's mate was not royalty, the male vampire had to wait until his mating instinct kicked in to acquire his powers.

I find the story preposterous considering the fact that there are few facts to back it up, and a vampire so renown for his strength and powers would still be alive to this day. My problem is not in some sort of fantasy. My problem is a currently asleep 20.8 pound bundle of screams and squeals. I lost all my research two years ago when I was forced to flee from my lab with only the child in my arms. For the last four hundred years of my unlife, I have been hunted by vampires for creating dhampirs. Now that the vampire covens think I have created another one, they will stop at nothing to get their hands on Scarlett and me.

My only refuge is a large mansion of a house in Connecticut that I had a witch ward with anti-vampire spells. I am the only vampire who can see the house, enter the house, and sense what is going on inside of the house. To any of the other vampires, the house and the people inside of it do not exist.

Over the year that I have lived here, I have made friends in a fellow coven here. These vampires do not seem to know who I am or what I have done, so I feel safe leaving my house everyday to work at the company their leader owns. The building is guarded with similar wards to the ones I have on my house. My only trouble is having to deal with the child. I cannot let her leave me for fear that the vampires could find her and use her to track me.

Even though her powers are nonexistent, her scent is that of a dhampir. Its sweet smell and delectable taste is intoxicating to vampires everywhere; if she ever so much as stepped a foot outside of this house without proper training and her dhampir powers to protect her, she would be dead in seconds. And if the vampires did not recognize her from he distinctive scent, they would most certainly recognize the pale skin, angular features, and lack of a shadow known only to be found in dhampirs and vampires. I am stuck with the weakling girl, and she in turn is stuck inside of the room I keep her in for her own good.

**ll Scarlett llll**

You know that feeling you get when you think that maybe you are special, that maybe you are different than everyone else, that maybe you can make a difference? Well, I don't. And maybe you are special, maybe you will make a difference. I, however, most certainly am not, and I most certainly will not. The only thing mildly interesting about me is the fact that I have never left my father's house in my lifetime; I have never walked the streets of the world.

My father owns an unnecessarily large mansion. All I own is my sanity; everything else is his. My father hates seeing my face because I remind him of my mother, but even that is a guess. I truly know very little about him. All have been able to find out is that he had chosen my mother for something important, and when she died giving birth to me, my father was devastated. He calls me his little disappointment. Apparently, I am not the daughter he had been hoping for.

Three years ago was the first time he had ever hit me. I had come downstairs to find something to eat while he was working in the other room. My father heard me rummaging around in the fridge, and when I turned around we stood face to face. He asked me what I was doing, and I had snapped at him that I didn't need to report to him. My words were quickly shushed when his fist collided with the bare skin of my face. I can't describe the feeling, but one second I was facing him with my stubborn chin lifted pridefully in the air, and the next second, the force of the punch was throwing me back into the shelves of the refrigerator. I'm not going to lie, it really hurt, but I was more amazed that he would dare touch me. Ever since that day, I never leave my room when he is home.

I am not scared of my father; rather, the only feeling I have toward him is a stone cold malice so potent I swear it was sewn into the lining of my soul. I do not go near my father because I am scared of what I might do. It is not like I could kill him, but I would probably throw something sharp in his general direction, causing him to take the action as an invitation to hurt me. I am not suicidal; I want to escape this hell hole and see the world. My goal is self preservation.

Everyday, while my father is at work, I go down to our basement which doubles as a training arena. Why we have a training arena in our basement is a mystery to me, but I thank whatever divine power is out there everyday for without it I would have no way of training myself in preparation for my next confrontation with my father.

The walls and floor of our basement are covered in mats. Against one wall is a glass case holding various types of weapons. My personal preference is knives, however, I have trained with all of the weapons. Before I had started training with weapons, I taught myself how to fist fight and some karate basics referencing videos I found on the internet for instruction. Attached to the basement is a small storage room. Inside of the room are punching bags, life-sized dummies, weights, as well as various other tools and props. Training has become my release; it is my escape. Eight hours a day I spent in the basement teaching myself new ways of fighting by using the internet to my advantage. It isn't very much, but it is all a girl like me needs.

All this training was for a sole purpose; I want to get as far away from my father as possible. I want to leave and never look back. Next week is going to be my eighteenth birthday. That is the day I plan to run from this hell hole . Until that day, however, I am still stuck here.

Yawning, I force my body to pull itself off my bed. Lately, I have become very tired, even to the point of exhaustion. I figure that it is just all my training finally catching up with me. Now standing, I stretch in front of my bedroom window. The sun has not yet come up, so instead of of seeing the backyard, I see a reflection of my image in the glass. My long, unmanaged chestnut hair seems to tumble off my shoulders in tangled clumps. The red tint in it almost makes my hair appear like dried blood; a characteristic that I consider fitting since my name is Scarlett. My light, faded green eyes take in my average body and my pale skin. Like I have said, I really am nothing special. I look like any of those people called celebrities that I would would see on the television. I am utterly average.

With a sigh, I grab a hair tie from my desk drawer and leave my room to start yet another day of training. Upon opening my door to enter the hallway leading downstairs, I fell like I am stepping into a different world. Furnished and painted completely white from the white bed, desk, and dresser to the fluffy white carpet under my feet, my room contradicts the dark wood and red walls of the hallway. Yet another reminder of how much of an outcast I am. The only perk to my room is the small TV hooked up to cable and a video player, but eventually, I became bored of that too.

I want to be free, already. After seventeen years in this prison, I only have to wait one more week before my dreams become reality.

**Thanks for reading. PLEASE REVEIW so that I can fix the story if something is strange or doesn't make sense about it. -Emerald**


	2. Entry 2: A Countdown

**PLEASE READ!: **** I know that this story might be confusing in some part, because every author likes to tailor their vampires to their stories. That being said, if you have any questions be sure to ask in a comment or to private message me. **

Chapter Two: A Countdown

ll Scarlett lll

Seven. Six. Five. Four. I count down the days until my birthday almost wearily. Since the start of this week, my body seems to have adopted a mind of its own. Let me elaborate. I have ruminated long enough on the topic to arrive at the conclusion that my body is changing, and it couldn't have occurred at a worst time. How was I going to escape this house when I could hardly even pull myself off my bed to eat. For that was how the first few days of this strange week were spent. Then, out of nowhere, five days away from my birthday - which in case you are wondering was yesterday - I woke up at five in the morning with more energy than I had any idea what to do with.

The changes of these past few days have put me on edge. If there is one way to describe what is like, the best example would be relating the feeling to that of a growth spurt. but there is more to this week than what is implied by a growth spurt; for instance, I have lost my appetite for food, am constantly moody, and after the initial two days have lost the need for sleep. Despite these strange feeling inside of me, I try forcing myself to sleep, eat, and calm down when upset. The key word in that sentence is 'try', because I am epically failing in my efforts. Take yesterday for example.

Usually, I focus more on my fighting skills than running, but yesterday, I felt invigorated. In less than twenty minutes, I had come to the conclusion that my previously exhausting routine was really very easy for me. Seeing the treadmill as an unplanned challenge, I had welcomed the new form of exercise, fully expecting to tire of it after thirty minutes of running. Nine hours later found me still running, and I hardly felt tired at all. Instead, I felt more alive than I have ever felt in my life. The only reason I stopped was due to the sound of my father entering the house through the front door.

_Flashback:_

_The sound of a door closing upstairs alerts me to my father's presence. He must have gotten home from work early; after all, I had only been running for...Jesus! I nearly fall off the treadmill when I see the electronic timer displaying that I have been running for nine hours, seven minutes, and twenty-nine seconds. If my father had not walked in, I probably would have kept going for God knows how long. How did I even hear the door close? The basement is on the opposite side of the house and two floors down, and the noise of the treadmill should have masked the sound. Soon, my thoughts have consumed my attention, and I don't realize that my legs have stopped moving while the treadmill belt keeps going. _

Shit,_ is all I have time to think before my legs are gone from underneath me, and the rest of my body is falling forward onto the moving rubber track. I don't even have time enough to throw my arms up in front of my face for protection before my knees, arms, and face collide with the moving rubber belt. Pain blossoms across my skin, and I am propelled backwards. I roll across the matted basement floor a few times before the momentum of being throw by the treadmill belt fades, leaving my body in a heap on the cold ground._

Great job, Scarlett, _I think to myself as I lay, stare up at the ceiling, _you really thought that one out. _My skin across my knees, from my elbows to wrists, and along my left cheek feels raw. I check my arm, as it seems to be the most easily accessible from where I lay. Blood is pooling in the places where the flesh has been removed by the treadmill belt. _

Oh, great, _ I think bitterly, _that is all I need right now.

_Right about when I decided to push my lazy butt up off the floor, the door to the basement flies open to reveal the pissed silhouette of my father. As soon as his eyes fall on me, I know that I am in for a boatload of trouble. It is strange, now that I think of it, seeing his face for the first time in three years. As I'm sure I said before, I make a habit out of ignore his very existence and confide myself to my room while he is here. In three years, nothing about his appearance has changed. His reddish brown eyes are framed by a pair of dark black eyebrows that match the dark waves of hair on his head. Wasn't he supposed to get older with age?_

_"What the hell do you think you are doing down here?" My father growls down at me from where he stands in the door frame at the top of the staircase that leads down into the basement. Had I not just been forcibly removed from the treadmill or maybe if I had eaten something in the last nine hours, I might have thought rationally and backed down as he glares down at me with a vicious animalistic look to his face. However, like I must have mentioned by now, my thoughts tend to get me in trouble, but compared to my thoughts, my impulses are worse. When I tell you that the next thing I do is completely based off of impulse, you should know that it is probably the worst possible thing to do in any situation. _

_Pushing my body up off the ground, I bring myself to stand and meet his glare with one of my own. Despite the fact that I am forced to tilt my head back in order to meet his eyes from where he stands on top of the stairs, I feel strong, authoritative. _

_"I asked what the hell you are doing down here and what all the noise is?" he repeats with even more anger, as though finally taking in the bloody mess I have made. _

_"Don't worry," I say. "I'm just living up to your demeaning comments about me making your life a living hell."_

_Before my sanity decides to grace me with its presence, my father is moving. All I see is a blur, and then a pain in my neck as I am pushed backwards. The pain spreads to my back and head when my body collides with the hard cement of the basement wall. All the air seems to have been stolen from my lungs; not that I can possibly use it anyway with the way my father has wrapped his hand around my throat, holding my body against the wall, leaving my feet to dangle at least a few inches off the ground. It is useless to try and fight him; he is too strong for me._

_My father had moved down the stairs and across the room in less than a second. No human could have possibly crossed that distance in that amount of time; that is probably the only thing I am certain of at this point in time. _

_I am gasping for air that refuses to come. At this point, I am sure that the lack of oxygen in my lungs is causing delusions, because there is no other way to explain how my father had moved so fast. There is also no way that my father is now looking at my bleeding cheek with an predatory hunger in his eyes. It just isn't possible._

_I am grateful that my father's hand on my throat prevents me from speaking, even if it also prevents me from breathing . Nothing that I could have possibly said at this time would prove to be helpful, but I probably would have said it anyway. Right about now, I am imagining my face to be a dark purple or blue color. My father finally pulls his gaze from my bloody cheek, only to glare into my eyes. My vision starts to blur, and my eyelids start to feel heavy. Seeming satisfied with my current state, he releases me. My body collapses to the floor at his feet, and I gasp for breath, coughing as air once again fills my lungs. Never have I been so grateful for oxygen. _

_Once stable, I steel myself to meet my father's eyes yet again, but when I look up defiantly, he is gone. I am unsure whether this is a good thing or bad, considering that I can now talk and have a piece of my mind to share. "_Damn that man," _I growl, pounding my fist on the ground._

_With a sigh, I gather myself and walk up the stairs and out of the basement. To my left is a bathroom; I use it to attend to my bleeding legs, arms, and cheek._

_End of Flashback_

That all happened yesterday. Today, I am violently awoken at 12:01 in the morning by a loud screeching sound. Grabbing my pillow, I clutch it to my ears, burying my head in my bed. After a second, it is gone. Cautiously removing the sack of feathers from my ears in case the sound comes again, I begin to look for what had caused the noise. I start by searching my room with my eyes; my action reaps little results. When I step off my bed, the squeak of the wooden boards that hold up my mattress has me collapsing the floor with my fists in my ears. I remain on the ground in a fetal position as the sounds of the night surround me.

Somewhere outside, a stupid owl is just asking to have its voice box removed. Its repetitive hoots are nearly driving my insane. Usually, I would never hear owls, but now, it feels like the owl is up against my ear, hooting into my eardrum. Then of course the crickets decide to make their appearance. The overpowering noise drowns out all thought. Tears slide down my face making me question whether the moist streams that wet my hands are truly salt water or just blood from my bleeding ears. The last thing I remember before blacking out is a loud, protective growl.

The sound reverberates through my body, causing my heart to contract joyfully. Rather than fearing what or who it belonged to, my body filled with warmth. All of the other noises echoing in my head fade away as I am lulled into a deep sleep with the masculine growl replaying in my head. I am sure that if the growl is tangible, I would be clutching it to my chest as one would a life-dependent object. To me, the growl is my anchor; it provides me with a safe-ground through the raging storm going on in my head. I hold fast to the sound, wishing whatever made it was there to comfort me in person.

ll Prince Griffin lll

The past few days have been hell for me. I can almost feel my mate's growing power in the back of my mind, but I cannot sense her. Of late, I am always on edge. Who is hiding my mate from me? Are they after the crown? Could they be torturing her? I can feel our connection growing, but she is still lost to me. When I went to my father about this, he had also been confused. Obviously someone has taken the time to hide my mate from me with powerful spells, otherwise I would be able to find her. After all, mate's connections are one of the most powerful links in the world; few spells can block it. The fact that I can somehow sense my mate through the spell means that I either have an exceptionally powerful mate or we have a impressively powerful connection. I hope that it is both.

As prince, I should have always been able to sense my mate, but I wouldn't be able to locate her until she turned three-hundredyears old - she has to be a vampire, no human could be this strong. These new feelings must mean that her birthday is approaching; they give me new hope in finding my mate. However, after yesterday, I have begun to fear for her safety.

I had been in the middle of a private meeting with my father to discuss William's new rogue condition when pain erupted across my legs, arms, and face. It felt as though someone had rubbed the areas down with sandpaper.

"The dangers presented by keeping a rogue alive are-" My father was saying. I gritted my teeth together and tried to ignore the pain; it was something I was good at. Despite this, I had found myself unable to concentrate on my father's words. What I had been feeling was my mate's pain, and that in itself hurt more than any physical pain I could have undergone. Soon, the pain started to fade, and I found myself able to concentrate on my father's words once again.

"Besides, if William, or the rogue that is now William, even manages to escape our prisons, which is entirely possible since you two practically scouted out all the tunnels leading in and out of them when you were younglings, he will slaughter the next town over. How will we be able to explain that to-"

In the next second, I found myself unable to breathe. Now let's get this straight, vampire's don't need to breathe. That is why I found it strange that suddenly, I felt as though I was dependent on air, and that said air was being cut off from my lungs. I was immediately sure that my mate was being choked. The pain I had felt on my legs, face, and arms and now on my throat was not as intense as what my mate must have been feeling, but it sure was painful enough to catch my attention. My hand had pulled a the collar of my shirt in a fruitless attempt to rid the pressure from my air pipe. Never had I felt this before, and it scared the Hell out of me. Instinct told me to clutch my throat and try to push away whatever was attacking me...or my...my mate. The pressure on my mate's throat disappeared, and both she and I could breathe again.

I stood suddenly, causing my chair to topple over onto the floor. My mate had been chocked; she had about to die. That could only mean one thing.

" Griffin!" My father's voice rang through the hall. I realized that he had been calling my name for quite some time, but my attention had been elsewhere.

I was still reeling from my newest revelation when I looked up to meet my father's eyes with my own. As if in shock, I whispered, "My mate is human."

l-l

I soon was able to calm myself down, and after another hour of discussing the possibility of my mate being human, my father and I came to a decision. When and if I was able to locate my mate, I would have to turn her into a vampire immediately. This had been my father's ultimatum: turn her or reject her. No prince had ever been known to mate with a human; that only occurrs among royals, and even then it is rare. There is solid reasoning behind this as well. Any prince's mate is high sought after; all supernatural would view her as the prince's weakness. If my mate is human, than I would fear to even let her venture outside of her bedroom, out of worry for her safety.

Now, I sit in the blood kitchens, pondering just what my mate is like. I know that I need her to prevent myself from going rogue, but other than that, I am unsure as to whether or not I could come to like her. She is human after all, so I know that my respect for her is minimal, and her first few years as a new vampire would take a lot of effort on my part. I am beginning to wonder whether or not this girl is worth it. If I wasn't prince, going rogue would be a plausible alternative to mating a human.

Sure, I feel like killing the person who dares lay a hand on my mate, but that is different than loving the human. It is all just too much to think about. I want to go back to the times when William and I would mess around with different girls depending on the night. I sure as hell am not going to give all that up for a pesky little human. Yet I haven't been able to bed any of the women who have made appearances in my bedchambers for the last few days. If you must know, I am well-known for my ways with women. If they want a pleasurable, no strings attached night, then I was their vampire.

A night ago, I had brought a girl home, only to stop in the middle of kissing her in disgust. The pressure in the back of my head that I attribute to the presence of my mate suddenly disappeared when I had kissed the girl. I did not feel the usual pleasure attributed with the action of kissing. I pulled away from the girl as though lightening had struck in the middle of us, and the pressure in the back of my head returned as well as the reassurance that my mate was still there, somewhere. When the pressure had disappeared, I had thought that my mate had been killed and the thought had cause my black little heart to fall out of my chest and roll across the hardwood floor and die, again. Or at least that was what it had felt like at the time.

I have been worrying over my mate for hours now. It is only two minutes into a new day when a sudden pain burns in my ears. All I hear is a ringing sound that comes when something loud goes off with my sensitive vampire hearing.

"Damn it," I shout, my hands flying to my ears, even thought I know that I cannot block out the sound, for it is coming from my mate's ears. What the hell is a human doing up at this time of night with that much sound. I have heard that humans were fond of partying into late hours of the night, but this was pure ridiculousness. This mate of mine is going to drive me crazy.

I can soon feel her suffering through our weak link, and I know that this pain is not of her own doing; someone is hurting her. The noise grows increasingly louder, and before I know what I am doing, a loud, protective growl escapes my throat. The sound echoes through my bedchambers and undoubtedly through the rest of the castle as well, probably waking everyone asleep in the royal grounds and maybe even a few villages from in the nearby town. I want to protect my mate, and knowing that somewhere, far away from me, she is enduring this without me there to help her is worse than any torture imaginable. Any thoughts of rejecting her have vanished from my mind. Now, I could care less whether or not she is human; I just want her here in my arms, safe from the harm of the world. We could work out the human problem later.

_I will come for you,_ I think in determination to myself, wishing that somehow she could hear my thoughts, _and when I do, you will be all mine._

ll Scarlett lll

When I wake again, it is to the bright midday sun shining through my window. _Whoa, _I think to myself, _Midday? _And why was I on the floor?

The tweet of a bird from outside my window answers all my questions. It's shrill sound echoes through my already rattled brain. I hiss at the sound and cover my ears with my hands as I jumped up from the ground and run out of my bedroom door. The pain is not nearly as bad as last night, so I figure that my body has gotten used to whatever is occurring. Thank everything holy for adaption.

With my hands still covering my ears, running down the stairwell, to the kitchen, through dozens of rooms, and into the basement was like running through a minefield. My footsteps resonate through the house, all the electronic devices in the house buzz loudly as the electricity is transferred through the wires, and ever creak the floorboards make as I sprint across them feel like someone is driving a nail into my head. Upon finally reaching the basement, I collapse on the ground and welcome the way the sounds from upstairs are slightly muffled which must be attributed to the thick cement walls that line the room. Leaning against a wall, I slide down until I am in a sitting position with my knees pulled to my chest and my hands on my ears. This is how I remain for the rest of the day.

At the sound of a knock on the front door, I flinch. There is no way to know how long I have been in the basement for. It is quite ironic that in a room filled with weapons, I can do nothing to fight this off. Two more knock sound from the door; whoever is knocking is really pissing me off. I hiss as my ears echo with the sound again. _Just go join a damn band_, I nearly growl. As if in response, the doorbell now rings. As the bell sounds out from multiple speakers around the house, feel as though the sound has surrounded me. The same sharp ringing is coming from every direction. It bombards my ears and overtakes my senses.

I grip my head tightly, digging my nails into the skin there. Just when I think that I've made it though the worst part and the noise is fading away , the person at the door rings the doorbell again. Again. And again.

The noise has me writhing on the floor in pain. In an instinctual response, I let out a heart stopping scream. There has to be some way to cut off my senses and make them less sensitive. That is the solution, of course, but I have no idea how to help myself attempt to lessen my hearing. Another ring from the doorbell and all rational thoughts are gone from my head again.

_TURN OFF YOUR HEARING! _A foreign voice shouts in my head. Unlike all the other noises, this one is soothing and appealing. I take a second to marvel as the sound replays itself thorough my head before the bell rings again.

_Seriously, _I think through gritted teeth. _Who the hell is at the damn door!_

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. The sound is cornering me, trapping me in my own personal hell, and there is no way I can help myself and fight it off. As it echoed through my ears and mind, I feel like my brain is being stabbed over and over again with a sharp stick. Then, strangely, I feel the pain lessen. It isn't by a large amount, but the feeling gives me strength.

_Your stronger than this,_ I tell myself. _What was all that training for if you are incapacitated by a damn doorbell? _Provoking myself into anger, I force my body to respond to my commands and to stand up. At first my legs refuse to hold my weight, but with the assistance of the wall, I am able to prop myself up. Every time the doorbell rings, I flinch, and sometimes tumble back to the ground. When that happens, I force myself back up, again, ignoring the protests of my body. That is it. I am sick of this damn bell.

"STOP!" A commanding, pain-driven scream tumbles off my tongue and through my lips again, but this time, the scream is laced with a fury I had never though myself capable of possessing and an authority I always lacked. Like the flip of a switch, all the noises die down. They are not as quiet as a few days ago when everything was normal, but they aren't crippling me either. With an exhausted sigh, I fall back down to the ground, allowing my world to go black, yet again.

ll Prince Griffin lll

"Your mate is not human, or at least not for long," My father tells me looking down at me solemnly.

"How is that even possible?" I whisper.

After the events of early this morning, I had rushed to my father's quarters as soon as he had gotten out of an emergency conference with the other political members of our coven and told him of what happened. It angered me that I had to wait until midday to consult my father about my mate while she could go into more pain any second now, but I knew that as king, my father would not appreciate me barging into one of his meetings, even if I felt that it was life or death. When I finally did share my news with my father, he seemed confused at first - a feeling that both of us have become quite accustomed to when concerning my mate. Then, my father let out a frustrated sigh and said that my mate wasn't human, which brings us to the present.

"Nearly five hundred years ago, a human was bitten and turned in a vampire." My father starts to explain an old legend. I am about to ask how the story could possibly be germane to my mate, but he holds up a silencing hand. "After the turning process was complete, the vampire that bit the man was shocked to find that the new vampire was in fact still human. The man possessed none of the normal vampire qualities except for his overall pale skin and the occasional appearance of his fangs. The man found blood repulsive, was able to walk in light without a daylight spell to protect him, and had no advanced hearing, sight, and speed. For two-hundred years and ninety three days, the man remained like this.

"Two kingdoms over, a unmated princess started to feel her mate's growing presence in the back of her head. She had been of age for seventy years, and began to worry that her mate was gone. A week before the man's three-hundredth birthday, the princess found him and together they underwent the changing process. You see, sometimes when a royal is mated to a commoner, the common vampire or human does not come into his or her powers until their 'turning' birthday, be it eighteen years old or three-hundred. A human could be bitten, but they would not become vampire until of age. "

I take a minute to try and understand what my father is saying, but only one part of what my father said sticks out in my head. "So either way, my mate is vampire?"

My father frowns down at me. "Son, you have looked over the most important part," he lectures.

I let out an irritated sigh. The most important part to me is that the girl is a vampire. However, I know enough to humor my father. "What, pray tell, is the most important part?"

"The transition period." My father is looking at me with a type of seriousness that he has never exhibited before. I know this is serious, so I listen. "A week before the younger mate's 'turning' birthday, the, in your case, vampire undergoes a change from her mortal abilities to vampire. This only occurred once before in history, and the princess was there with her mate while he underwent this. Even so, the man nearly went crazy as a result. From what I have learned of this, The transition period is...difficult," my father says, seeming to search for the right word," for a human's body to adapt when it suddenly adopts vampire characteristics. That being said, it can only be assumed that undergoing the process without your mate to help you is, well impossible."

The world around me seem to have stopped moving. That really was the most important part. _Stop joking, _my mind snaps at myself, _your mate is going to die and you stand here making fun about it. Shame._

"Griffin, I know that-"

A loud noise attacks my ears, interrupting my father's words. It sounds like someone is knocking on my head with a steel nail. This happens a few times before the noise changes into a ringing. The sound seems to be coming from everywhere. I have only ever felt this once before; as a newborn vampire, my hearing was very sensitive, and until I learned to control it, every small noise hurt. I had been well looked after; the king had placed me in an underground cellar away from civilization. Most vampires are well equipped from newborns and have a quiet cellar to place the sensitive vampire in until it's powers are tamed. I hardly feel the cold floor against my back, as I stiffen in pain, my hands flying to my ears. The noise continues to sound, and then I hear the most heart-stopping sound imaginable. A scream. My mate's scream. The sound alone is worse than anything I could possibly experience.

It isn't supposed to happen like this, I should be there for her, to protect her. She is mine, my mate. When she feels pain, I am there to help her, to comfort her, to hold her in my arms. That is how it is meant to be. Instead, it feels as though the two of us are doomed to feel each other's pain and know that no matter what happened, we will not be able to reach each other.

"She's...getting her...hearing," I manage to say in between gasps of pain.

"Help her, tell her what to do," my father commands.

I grit my teeth together, resisting the urge to snap at him. How the hell am I going to tell her what to do? I have no idea where she is. Regardless, I know a kings order when I hear one.

Still clutching my ears, I force myself to calm down and try to form a connection with her. I know what to say to help her. In my mind, I kept repeating the words over and over, hoping that she would somehow be able to hear them.

_Turn off your hearing. Turn off your hearing! Turn off your hearing! TURN OFF YOUR HEARING!_

Suddenly, I feel a my mind jerk forward as if I had thrown a hook and it had caught on something. It was my mate, I could feel her..

_Seriously, who the hell is at the damn door! _An immaculate voice rings through my head. I almost lose my concentration at the sound; even if it is laced with pain, it is the best sound I had ever heard.

Knowing I need to help my mate in any way I could, I reach out to try and take the pain away from her and give her strength. Through our weak link, I am only able to help so much, but I know the small help I can offer is better than nothing at all.

_Your stronger than this,_ the beautiful voice rings out clear in my head. It is her's, and the strength behind it shocks me. _What was all that training for if you are incapacitated by a damn doorbell? _The amount of admiration I feel toward the girl at this moment is indescribable. Had I not been taking her pain upon myself and channeling her energy, I would have grinned at her words.

_STOP! _Her scream rings through my ears. It is a commanding sound, filled with so much rage and pain that our connection snaps, and the pain disappears. My body relaxes as I lean again the cold floor. She did it. My mate did it. Somehow she has tamed her power. It had taken me months to adjust to being a vampire after being turned. With the way things were going and a bit of my help, my mate could be over with the process in a week. She is so unbelievably strong that it shocks me. If I had thought that I wanted her with me before, now I needed her here by my side.

ll Scarlett's Father lll

Scarlett should have died when I had pushed her back against the wall. She should have at least been knocked unconscious. I had been so angry with her a the time, and then the scent of her blood filled my nose and I nearly lost control. Her blood smelled so much better than any other dhampir's. Had I not have feed right before coming home, I would have drained her right then and there.

The thought has been on my mind all night. I pace around the kitchen, knowing that something is changing in the girl dhampir. Maybe she is finally embracing the vampire part of her; entertaining the idea, I decide to test my theory out. The metal cup I have filled with blood sits on the granite counter top near the sink. Smirking, I grab the cup, and applying pressure, before dragging it across the rough stone, causing it to emit a soft screeching sound.

Upstairs, something shifts. My ears twitch, and I narrow the sound to the girl's room; it is the noise of fabric shifting. I stop moving the cup and just listen. The bed shifts and I assume she is moving off it. A soft bang sounds from her room, which I assume to be her hitting the floor. In seconds, I am outside her door, looking in. She is on the floor by her bed, her hands clenched over her head. To a human, the house is be utterly silent, but only a new vampire would be able to hear all the sounds of the night. Without knowing how to control her new powers, I know that the noises will drive her senses crazy.

Smiling, I leave her to her pain. She deserves it for all the time I had waited for her to turn out to be more than a worthless human. After all these years, I finally have my weapon.

l-l

The next morning, I find her asleep on the floor of her room, just where I had seen her last night. Knowing that she will be exactly where I leave her when I get back from work, I go to work, fully intending to come home early today. I want to get her training started as soon as possible.

I get back from work at three in the afternoon. Just when I am about to open the door to the house, an idea dawns on me. Instead of opening the door, I knock on the wood and listen closely for a response from inside the house, knowing that the girl will hear the sound loud and clear. Blocking out the normal sounds the house emits, I am able to hear the soft sound of fabric scraping against cement coming from the basement. I knock a few more times, and the response is a pained hiss. Enjoying the pain she feels, I turn and ring the doorbell. I keep ringing it, and I can hear her squirming in pain. When she releases a scream, I smile. The bitch deserves all the pain and more.

What I then hear has me nearly growling. The girl is fighting back, trying to stand or crawl. I cannot distinguish, but she is trying to move, I can hear that much. I ring the door bell even more, and hear her collapse again. _Serves you right, _I nearly hiss. Then I hear her trying to move yet again. The stubborn girl.

"STOP!" Her scream fills my ears with such authority that my finger stops before hitting the button again. _What the hell was that!_ I think to myself. She shouldn't be able to command me like that. Something in this girl is different than all my past dhampirs. It is something that makes her strong; something that makes me realize how dangerous she could be in the wrong hands and how helpful she could be in my hands. I ring the doorbell again, but this time there is no response. She has somehow tamed her hearing. Never has a newborn been able to do this in the amount of time she has. It take newborns at least a month to adapt to their new powers.

This girl is strong, and I almost forgive her for making me wait so long. Almost. She will pay for that tomorrow when we start training.

The realization that the girl truly isn't human gets me thinking. No dhampir or vampire has ever matured this late in life before; the only case I have heard of is the legend I once mentioned in one of my journals a man who was bitten but did not receive his powers until he came of matting age. If this is true, then the girl must also have a mate, and he will surely come looking for her soon. The wards I once had a witch place on my house are starting to fade, so I would not be surprised if her nearing birthday has anything to do with the girl's power. Despite the wards withering power, no normal vampire should be able to connect with the girl, mate or no mate. I must get the wards replaced just in case; this means that I must once again go in search of the witch who has fallen into debt with me. Once I find her, I will have the wards placed up immediately in order to protect what is mine. No one will be getting near my dear dhampir until I have finished with her.

**Ok, I am really not in the mood for an A/N right now, so this is all you guys get. PLEASE REVIEW!**


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